Re-blog if your belly is expanding faster than the covid numbers.
Thin to fat.
To stuff, or to be stuffed, that is the question.
Need someone to stuff me to the brim, gently ride me and then give me a long belly rub.
Greedy I know, but I’ll return the favor.
🤤🤤What are your thoughts on belly worshiping?
Love being worshiped, love worshiping 🥰
I think it’d be a fun idea to have you teach a yoga class online and over time you’d be chubbier and chubbier in it and spending more time eating
The vibes. Impeccable.
For all the gainers out there 😉
You could be so much fatter by now. If you were with me.
Just imagine. We’ve been working from home, sheltering in place for more than 9 months now.
You could be so much fatter.
If we’d spent weeks together, me learning just how much food you can comfortably eat in a day and just how to coax you to eat a little more. Teasing you for letting yourself go while we both revel in the pounds you’re packing on. Making no secret of just how much I like all that extra cushioning on you.
Spring turned to summer and none of your clothes from last year fit. What a treat - watching you try and wiggle your hips into too small shorts. Love handles spilling over the back of your waistband as your swelling belly covered the front. Buttons bulging on tops and bottoms alike.
Blasting the air conditioning and introducing you to the delights of beer floats (🍺+🍦). Marvelling at just how many burgers with all the fixings you can put away these days.
Losing count of all the hours I’ve spent gently rubbing your belly when you’ve filled it far too full as the days get cooler and shorter.
You were noticeably rounder by the time Thanksgiving rolled around. There was no one but me to appreciate your new heft but I made you a full-size feast just to see how far you’d go. And you definitely didn’t disappoint.
“You ate enough for five,” I whisper in your ear, my fingers on your cheek, thumb stroking your double chin. “And you better believe I made pie.”
The leftovers - and a few fast food orders - kept you stuffed like a proverbial turkey all through the long weekend. Beached and drowsy, you shivered and gasped as I tested the thickness of each new roll with my teeth, my fingers never needing to roam far to find a soft spot to squeeze.
The countdown to Christmas was a blur of baking, big meals and hours and hours spent cuddling and caressing you through food comas.
Capped off with a spectacular new year’s stuffing. I’ve never seen you eat so much, never been more proud of your gluttony. Stretched and sore and more than a little smug, you fell asleep with me draped across the expanse of fat at your middle, listening to your gut struggle to process all those calories.
What a year.
You could be so much fatter if you’d spent it with me.
Can’t find the name of the original author.